I fell to one knee, and he hit me in the face with his weapon, chopping open my forehead, cracking the bridge of my nose and dropping me to all fours,...head abuzz.Then came a crashing thump and the man fell to his back on the floor, right in front of me, his arms spread wide and feet kicking, eyes staring. A trickle of blood ran from his ear, and a dark liquid splashed down on my shoulder and his body. Artesia had hit him in the head with his heavy, cut-glass, port decanter. She had cracked his. She was lightly moaning, I then kissed on her neck and her cleavage and her navel.. It was nice feeling, I then opened my shirt and threw it, and I also opened her pant..Now she was only in her black bra, which was covering half of her tits and black panty.. And started to kiss her on her neck.. And on the other hand rubbing my fingers on her cunt.. Both of them have become hot now and I removed my pant and I was just in shorts.. We hugged each other and rolled on each other on the bed.. And. It was eating me up. The phone rang several times, but it was never her, and I didn't pick up. I fell asleep on the couch, watching some damn 50's black-and-white gangster movie.I woke to her holding me. I reached around her and hugged her tight. "You look terrible," she said softly. "Did it upset you that much? He barely even touched me, nothing more than a friendly hug or caress. I swear." I'm sorry," I whispered. "I know it's not fair, but I hated it. Not knowing. I trust you, I trust both. I’ve watched so many strippers and had so many private dances that the girls, breasts, bottoms, cunts, legs and outfits all merge into one. But what I describe is substantially what happened.The booth was just big enough for the two of us. The walls except for the curtained door were mirrored floor to ceiling. In the middle was a mushroom like stool on which I sat with my back to the curtain. A music track started outside in the bar and Sylvia began to gyrate around me. The mirrors let me see.
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